


Just This Time

by orphan_account



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: AU - Soulmates, M/M, age gap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-15
Updated: 2014-05-15
Packaged: 2018-01-24 23:14:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1620428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eighteen years isn’t a lot to a guy like Ray - if it’s about soulmates, a number is just a number, right? But Ray wasn’t there when Joel was eighteen, doesn’t know what it’s like to be branded with the name of a child, and doesn’t understand waiting forty years for a soulmate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Joel

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first ever fic I’m posting here, and yeah, it’s Joelay, which I’ve become hooked on in the worst way (I never wanted this to happen). So basically this is a soulmates au wherein you get the name of your soulmate on you when they’re born if you’re older or when you’re born if they’re older. And what I’ve found in the Joelay fics I’ve read is that authors rarely deal with Joel reacting to his and Ray’s age difference in a negative way, so I wanted to show that a bit. Maybe I showed it too much. Oops… Anyway, this chap is Joel, the next is Ray, the last is them meeting. I did a ton of research on American uni, the recession of the 80s (look man I like to be thorough), like I think I googled Mexican dances? yeah… I’m British, so just ignore any misspellings, they’re probably correct to me. Also, the timeline’s a little screwy - like I think Burnie may have gone to uni later than Joel and Matt? But, uh, artistic license? Um, enjoy? Feedback is appreciated, but don’t feel obliged.
> 
> this was actually kind of inspired by [this](http://fandomanon.tumblr.com/post/67278496741/soulmate-au-where-the-real-reason-joel-feels-the) oops
> 
> also a repost of a fic i've done on tumblr lalala if you recognise this it's because it's on there already~

Joel’s only six when he notices it. He’d seen black scrawled upon other kids’ skin in kindergarten, but he hadn’t been able to read, hadn’t understood, and hadn’t really cared. At six years he knows a little more, can tell that there’s names written on his classmates, on necks or hands or arms.

He goes home on the third day of elementary school and asks him mum, “Where’s mine?”

“It’ll come soon, sweetie,” she replies, smiling warmly and bending down a little to tap his nose. “It shouldn’t be long, now.”

Joel nods because, ok, yeah, that makes sense. “What do they mean?” he asks after.

She glances at the name curled around her wrist and says, “This is your daddy’s name. The name you get is the person you’re gonna be with forever.” Her eyes are soft and her smile sweet, but Joel frowns.

“What if I don’t like them?” A perfectly logical question – it sounds like it would suck.

“You’re gonna love them,” is her only reply, and Joel shrugs and moves onto more important activities, like trying to convince his dad to get a python for him.

-

Joel gets the snake, but not the name. He’s ten and old enough to understand that usually most people have their name – that not having a name makes him kind of a freak. People stare and squint like maybe he’s lying when he shrugs and says, “I don’t have one yet,” and he wishes he did, but his mum says it’s kind of common to not have one yet.

The name of your soulmate is meant to show up when they’re born, you see. And eventually, through fate or perfectly-legal stalking, you find them and love them and stay with them forever.

What if… What if Joel doesn’t  _have_  a soulmate?

At least he has a pet python?

It’s kind of scary, actually.

Maybe that was the wrong thing to ask for.

-

At six it’s normal, at ten it’s okay, but at fifteen people start looking at him like he’s a real problem, like he must be fucked up.

“Do you not have a soulmate?” they whisper to him, looking shocked as they glance down at their own names.

“Not yet,” Joel replies, every time, the emphasis on the  _yet_  getting stronger while his belief in his own answer gets weaker. That would be so typical, of him to not have a soulmate. He’s already weird because he grew taller faster than the rest of the guys. He actually  _likes_  economics, sometimes stays behind after class to talk to the teacher about the stocks, the recession they just recovered from, the safety of investing in gold. He’s passionate about economics, and drama, and he used to have a snake and he’s too tall but not quite broad enough to play football and people think he’s weird because his left hand twitches and he doesn’t like surprises.

Well, fuck. It wouldn’t be a surprise if he didn’t have a soulmate. Maybe it’s better that way, actually. He can focus on his career, sort out where to put his money, maybe even enjoy his life a little.

He’s fifteen, and he looks at his mum with the memory of his classmates’ laughter roaring in his ears, and he asks her, “Where’s mine?”

Her constant reassurance, her warm presence, her outstretched arms- none of that matters when she replies, “I don’t know, love.”

He comes home later that night, maybe more drunk that he should have been, maybe scratching left hand red raw and maybe his mum tries to hold him but he shrugs her off, pushes past his dad, and sits in his room until it’s dawn.

-

He ends up in Austin, Texas for university. He still has no name, no soulmate. He  _does_ have a burgeoning alcohol problem, though, and the majority of his friends are only such because he’s always ready to go down the pub.

He has one good friend, his roommate Matt, and when he talks about going to LA after uni to break out and get an acting job, Matt doesn’t laugh or scorn or avert his eyes, but says he’ll go with him, and maybe he’ll become a producer, a director, a writer. Matt doesn’t ask him why he has no name, why his shirt sleeves are long and his hoodies are baggy, why he rarely wears shorts even though it’s still hot out. Doesn’t ask why Joel goes out and drinks for hours and returns, talking about pythons and names and almost  _eighteen years_ , god damn.

Joel tells him anyway. Matt had probably figured it out.

He’s just settled into university when he finds his birthday looming upon him. It’s the Saturday before it, and he’s lounging on his bed, groaning about birthdays and ages and  _ugh_. Matt’s going through a textbook with highlighter, actually preparing himself for class like a decent student, and nodding every now and then when Joel says, “right?”

“We should go out,” Matt interrupts him eventually, eyeing the clock on the wall opposite.

It’s 5pm. “Look, Matt, we’re friends and all, but I don’t know if I can go all the way with you,” Joel replies nonchalantly, staring at the ceiling in the hopes it will have the answers to his problems.

“You’re turning eighteen tomorrow, you won’t stop crying until you drink, it’s a Saturday night and so we should go have a drink.”

Sounds logical.

“I can grab Burnie, we’ll be like the Musketeers.”

“Please, no. No Musketeers.”

Matt gets Burnie anyway, except they don’t return for a good hour or two. Joel tries to read a book on the economy, tries to practice lines, eventually lies on his back and thinks. It’s hard to let his brain slow down by itself – he’s usually thinking about too many things, analysing every action or detail or dumb anything. That’s why drinking’s so nice, it calms everything down and makes him laugh and he can forget things for a while.

Joel thinks about being six and not caring. Being ten and beginning to worry. Being fifteen and laughed at. Being almost eighteen and…still, nothing. Still drunk dumb stupid dumb idiot Joel with no name and no soulmate, and apparently no friends either. God, how he misses the days when he still thought he’d get a soulmate, how he lived every day in the hopes that black ink would appear on his skin and he’d know he’d have his someone forever. God, how innocent he was, how naïve and dumb. Even growing up thinking that it would come one day, that it wouldn’t be all that bad and in high school he could show off his name with the same pride everyone else did, that he would be a little more normal. Even that was easier than now, resigned to never getting a name because who gets a name this late in the game? He’d be a god damn cradle robber, and frankly, he never signed up for that shit when he was born.

It’s still a nice day outside, though it’s not long till 7pm. It’s all golden sunshine and green grass and white buildings topped in orange. It looks fucking nice. He’d sure enjoy hanging out in that sunshine, would probably be better off languishing out on the grass than in here…if only he had a soulmate to share it with.

God damn.

He never thought it would be this big an issue, that  _he_ , Joel Heyman, would be so hung up on not finding ‘true love’. What even was that? And Matt seems perfectly happy even though he hasn’t found his girl, and some people’s soulmates  _died_  before they met so really, Joel has it pretty well off.

He just…doesn’t feel like that. He feels pretty awful about it, actually. He’d be willing to go into more detail, has done, before, but he knows what routes his thoughts will go down and he doesn’t want to go there, not now, not when it’s the day before he’s eighteen and everything looks god damn beautiful in the sun.

He tries not to think, to focus on the maybe once-white ceiling of his and Matt’s shared room, thinks about painting a black infinity sign onto it. Traces it onto his jeans with a finger; it’s a technique he learned young, when his parents realised there was something a little not quite right with him. The steady pattern, the simple loops, they calm him, even out the stress, let him focus.

He takes a deep breath, and eventually he’s almost gone- until, of course, Burnie and Matt decide to finally reappear. Matt’s backpack is clinking suspiciously, and Burnie’s got a beer in his hand, so, yeah, it’s pretty obvious where they went.

“That took you two hours?” he asks in disbelief as Matt sets down the bag and starts pulling out bottles of various liqueurs.

“It’s your birthday. We decided to treat you nice. Be grateful,” Burnie replies, throwing himself on Matt’s bed.

Joel heaves a sigh and sits up. “What you got?”

Burnie and Matt look at each other. “Beer…?” Matt tries, shrugging. “Help yourself.”

Joel picks the one with the highest alcohol content and sits back.

It’s takes them fifteen minutes of mindless small talk to say, “Not much of a party, is it?”

“Look Joel, I fucking said be grateful so be fucking grateful, okay,” Burnie replies, doodling something on Matt’s textbooks.

It turns out to be some obnoxiously long (and pretty funny) joke spanning three pages with various diagrams of genitalia that has Matt ripping the textbook out of Burnie’s hands and accidentally in half.

“You  _mother-_ “

Matt starts lobbying Burnie with the remaining half he has left while Burnie tries to defend himself with, “Aw, c’mon man, it was  _funny_!”

“It was my fucking textbook for the course! Do you know how much that cost?”

“Like it cost less than $40.”

“That-uh… Hey, fuck you!” And keeps hitting him.

It’s about midway through this that a strange sensation hits Joel: his left hand burns like it’s on fire, like the flesh of his skin is tearing itself up and knitting itself back together. The scene before him blurs as black spots mar his vision. His head aches and he feels like he’ll throw up, but it’s only a second till he’s blinking into focus. Matt and Burnie have set their drinks and torn-up textbooks down and are staring at him in confusion.

He tries to sit up straighter, grabs the bottle of to the side and goes for a drink when he catches the flash of black and his heart drops.

_No_ , he thinks, taking the drink even as his heart stutters and sets the bottle down too heavily.  _No, it’s been too long. No, it didn’t hurt anyone else when we were kids. No, no, no._

But when he raises his left hand from his bottle, he can see black letters, a name finally,  _finally_  inked from his wrist down to his thumb.

_Ray Narvaez Jr._

There’s a still, complete silence for a whole minute. Joel’s staring at the name, tracing the curves with his eyes, committing it to memory. His friends are surely gaping, and it takes a moment to catch up to him.

“ _Fuck_.”

And they break into guffaws.

“You finally got a name?!”

“Your soulmate is eighteen years younger than you, you’re gonna be alone till you’re forty!”

“That was fucking dramatic, Joel.”

“Class A acting.”

“What’s the name, Joel? Sound cute? Foreign? Unpronounceable?”

“Shut up, Matt,” he mutters, taking into account what they’d said. He was almost eighteen. A baby had literally just been born, and that baby was his soulmate. A  _baby_ was his  _soulmate_  and here he was starting  _university_ , what the  _fuck_. “His name’s Ray,” he replies softly, anyway. His heart hitches when he says it, but he ignores his heart because it’s not really that reliable. “Ray Narvaez Jr.”

“Sounds foreign,” Matt concludes, like that was the big deal here. Joel glared.

“Sounds Mexican,” Burnie agreed. “Maybe he can rumba?”

“Don’t Mexicans have great asses? Hey, Joel-“

“He doesn’t have great  _anything_ ,” Joel says quietly, staring at the ground. Any joy or warmth in his heart has evaporated completely, leaving his insides icy, his nerves rattling. “He’s a baby. A  _baby_. And I’m in university.”

Matt and Burnie shut up then, watching with concern.

“Maybe-“

“Maybe  _nothing_. Get out. Get out right now.” Joel looks up at them, eyes narrowed and chest heaving, and they stumble to their feet instantly.

Matt pauses, considering he  _does_  actually sleep in the same room. “You, uh, you don’t want company?”

Joel doesn’t speak a word, and the two hurry to the door, pausing only to tell him not to be stupid.

Like he would be. He’s been stupid enough. It takes a  _lot_  to get Joel Heyman angry, at least to this degree. Easy to rile him up a little, to make him freak out, but to cut you off, shove you out? He doesn’t do that. Never really had anyone close enough to do that  _to_ , in all honestly.

There’s only one silver lining to this: alcohol. Thank God for Matt and Burnie, in that sense.

He drinks himself into oblivion that night, and the next morning, aching, hung over, and flinching every time he sees the name, he makes a call from the hall’s communal telephone and tells his mum he finally got a name.

The silence on the other end conveys all the emotions Joel’s words could not.


	2. Ray

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ray always had a name; he just couldn't _find_ his soulmate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is about Ray, we see some Michael/Gavin, the AH/RT crew coming into play. The screwy timeline comes more into play in this chap: in the recap mentioned, I know Joel was there and Ray knew who he was and it’s likely Joel knew who the new recruit of AH was when Ray was hired but shhh shh let’s ignore that for the purposes of this fic they didn’t happen. Most of what I’ve got here I’ve learned from various podcasts or recaps, also Burnie and Ray playing Journey (which was amazing in so many ways if you haven’t watched it you absolutely must). My headcanon for Ray is that he was really shy and awkward and stuff during school and once he started working for AH he became a lot less awkward and more like the asshole we know now. Also, I lied, Ray and Joel actually meet in this chap. The consequences come next time, woop. Enjoy?

Ray’s always had a name. When he’s old enough to realise that it’s something important, his mum tells him it’s been there since he was born, so he doesn’t have to suffer through years of wondering when he’d get one. It’s on his right inner forearm, right in the centre, and when some teacher in kindergarten asks who has their name it’s his right arm he sticks into the air, beaming with pride.

Names are a big thing, the same way marriage and university are. He doesn’t realise this when he’s young, caught up in innocence and naivety and learning new things. But as he grows older, it becomes painfully clear that he’s less social than his peers: content to just stay home and play games, he doesn’t like sport, doesn’t attend any games or concerts, doesn’t get  _involved_ , period. He has a few close friends whom he’ll hang out with after school sometimes, but the majority ignores him.

He’s nine when it starts, really - before then no one cares, and Ray can have fun with the rest of them. Then everyone starts growing a little, while he remains short and slight, nothing like his father. He’s no good in athletics of any kind, and gets embarrassed too easily, red-faced and stuttering and staring at the ground. He gets it, later: he’s an easy target. It made high school hell, though.

If middle school established his place on the social ladder - that is, at the very bottom - high school shows him how awful it is to be there. Over the years he’s seen people find their soulmates, in class or in the busy streets or at the big landmarks. He looks for his soulmate, some guy called  _Joel Heyman_ , but he never shows up in school, or outside of it, or anywhere where everyone else finds theirs.

The kids at school bully him for it. They bully him for being too good at video games, for wearing glasses and having bad skin and being Puerto Rican, being awkward and quiet and getting decent grades; for being a ‘nerd’. It’s not the label he cares about, not anymore. There are bigger things, worse things, like soulmates, who tend to be straight couples; at least, that’s the trend in his school. He doesn’t know if there are same-sex couples who hide their names and pretend they’re not together; he doesn’t know if his school is some phenomenon where no one is gay but him; he doesn’t know if gay couples are a common thing outside of school. He hopes they are.

But not here. He’s sixteen, and getting beat on by some jocks for having a male soulmate. It’s nothing to do with them; just because his soulmate is a guy doesn’t mean he’s the definition of gay, and it certainly doesn’t mean he’s checking other guys out at every opportunity. He’s doing what everybody else does - looking for the person who’s supposed to love them forever. And no matter how hard he tries, he _cannot_  find them. It’d be easier, he thinks, dealing with this if he had someone by his side. He has his parents, for sure, but his mum always makes the same ‘ _poor dear_ ' face whenever he walks in bashed and  bruised, and as much as his dad says he'll go beat up the assholes, Ray knows there's disappointment beneath that, that his son isn't all that he should be.

There are times when his name starts to fade to grey. Those are the worst times, worse than being shoved against a wall and beat on till he spitting blood out his mouth. The paler your name is, the closer to death they are. Whoever this  _Joel Heyman_  guy is, he seems to get in trouble pretty regularly, every few years or so. The closest it came was when he was twelve, and the name was so close to white that he had to be excused from class from nausea and the cold terror that grips him every time it begins to pale. It always returns to black, even if it takes a while. It always makes him feel sick, too, even when it’s happened before, he shakes and his skin goes clammy and he can only focus on the name, wills it to stay dark, wills his soulmate to stay alive.

Ray tries to invest himself in other things, things that can’t try and die on him without warning every now and then. Video games, obviously, because he’s played them for years. Sleeping is pretty great, too. When he gets his own clunky computer at 15, he begins to spend more and more time on that. It’s pretty cool, having such a huge database at his fingers, even if the most he does is check out games online and watch people playing those games.

Yeah, so. He kinda likes games. A lot.

There’s this one website he keeps coming back to, though, called Drunk Gamers. A bunch of guys decided to make a show using the game Halo called Red Vs. Blue, and he finds it hilarious. He’s watched the seasons that are out, and even if they’re pretty short, they’re a lot funnier than some stuff on TV. All the characters are awesome, although his favourite had to be Caboose from the blue team. The shit he comes out with is  _hilarious_ , even if half of it makes no sense. Red Vs. Blue is one of the greatest things to happen to him, he thinks - he can tune out his dad when he’s drunk, his mum when she’s sad, the mysterious girlfriend whenever she appears.

It’s a few years later, when he’s tried college and dropped out, employed in various jobs and living on his own, that he starts making his own game videos and putting them on a site called YouTube. It’s mostly just getting achievements from the Xbox 360, but there’s some personal stuff in there, just to keep it funny. Drunk Gamers have also relocated there, and become Rooster Teeth. They still post RvB, and he still watches, along with some new stuff like the podcasts. After listening to these he learns very quickly that there’s a guy named Joel Heyman who, incidentally, voices Caboose in RvB. Ray dwells on it for a while, especially when he searches the guy online and finds him pretty attractive. He’s too tall for a tiny guy like Ray though, and too old for him to actually consider this guy his soulmate. There’s probably a ton of Joel Heymans. Ray just…can’t seem to find the right one.

-

Making videos online was definitely the way to go. He starts streaming with other online gamers, gets pretty popular speed running against others. One guy he’s subscribed to, LtMkilla, gets in touch with him after apparently watching him on Twitch, and they become good friends quickly. The guy’s Michael Jones, and he’s pretty well-known on YouTube for screaming hilariously at games when he gets fed up with him. He lives in New Jersey as well, so sometimes they take the train to the other’s state and hang out for a few days, showing each other round town and playing arcade games. It’s totally heterosexual. Like, there’s 0 homo involved.

It’s pretty interesting to see that Michael has a guy’s name too, scrawled on his right upper arm - directly opposite the tattoo of his Triforce. When Ray points it out, Michael just laughs and says he likes a little symmetry. He discovers that Michael didn’t have it half as bad as Ray did at school because of his name - it wasn’t seen as abnormal to have same-sex soulmates, and it certainly didn’t make you an outcast. Ray thinks about it a lot, and when he confesses his thoughts to Michael the latter explains that yeah, Ray’s school was weird - or just full of  _assholes_. It makes him feel a lot better than anything else really did, and from then on, they’re close as friends can be.

Then Michael gets an offer from Rooster Teeth. He’s been in a similar position to Ray, employed as an electrician, when they send him an email telling him they like his videos. Michael’s unsure about it at first - like he says, he has a job, a home, his family all here in New Jersey. Then Ray points out it’s  _Rooster Teeth_ , (well, Achievement Hunter is technically the division asking for Michael), and therefore it’s fucking awesome, how could he ever turn down a job like that?

"The guys who make RvB think  _you’re_  funny enough to employ you, okay man? Just think about that,” Ray tells Michael over the headset one evening.

Michael thinks about it, then Michael takes the job and heads to Texas.

It’s not long until Michael calls him up, super excited, saying not only has he found his soulmate (the guy’s into slow-motion filmography and directed some RvB apparently), but that in a few days Achievement Hunter will call him up to do some work for them. And they do, telling him his community videos are impressive and if he could make more of those and send them in, they can be put up on the official channel and pay him for it.

He goes down and visits Michael after a while, to talk to the people at Achievement Hunter and see what they’re like. He ends up doing some kind of RT Recap, which is annoyingly nerve-wracking, and afterwards Michael pulls him away real quick to talk.

"Y’know," he says quickly, glancing round them with a mix of excitement and wariness in his eyes, "there’s, uh, your guy, uh, Joel Heyman. He’s in today. And, I mean, from what I hear he doesn’t have a soulmate, so-"

"So what, Michael?" he asks, shaking his head. "I’m twenty-two years old and I haven’t found my soulmate. So what? Like it’s gonna be some voice actor from here. I’m not that lucky."

"It’s possible," Michael tries.

"It’s not."

(If he catches sight of a tall guy with messy hair in a huge oversized hoodie, then maybe his heart starts racing and maybe his palms start sweating and maybe he has an irrational need to speak to this guy, but he ignores it and keeps on walking, keeps his head down, and ignores Michael when he nudges him and whispers, “That’s him.”)

He spends the rest of the day with the other employees, and gets pulled into a long conversation with Jack Pattillo and Geoff Ramsey, the guys who made Achievement Hunter. They’re funny guys, laidback but fair, and tell him all he needs to know. They say they’re still figuring themselves out a bit, but hopefully soon they’ll be able to bring him over to Texas to work for them properly.

They don’t ask about a soulmate, thank god, but he has a feeling they know anyway. Before he leaves, a group of them stand outside to say bye, and in a moment of _absolute life-ruining levels of stupidity_  he raises his right arm to wave, his name entirely on show. He snaps his arm down a second too late, but he sees the looks Geoff and Jack exchange, and thinks about them, a lot, even though he tries not to.

-

They hire him in 2012. They have their own office and desks: Ray’s is by window on the right, Michael next to him and Gavin Free, Michael’s soulmate and another addition to the crew, is father along by the door.  Geoff and Jack sit behind them, facing the opposite way.

It’s nice in Texas: a hell of a lot hotter than New York is most of the time, so he can wear shirts and shorts all the time. Better yet, Rooster Teeth have started up their own store, and, as an employee, he gets free shirts from them to wear. It’s pretty awesome.

The guys at AH are pretty awesome too, and he’s soon introduced to the rest of the company. There’s Lindsay Tuggey and Caleb Denecour, who are like the behind-the-scenes guys of AH. There’s Barbara Dunkleman, who he of course knows from Michael, who greets him with a friendly smile. There’s the writing team, Miles Luna and Kerry Shawcross and this hardcore animator/possible-ruler-of-the-world Monty Oum. Then there are the guys at the core of it all, who started the dumb show that he became so dependent on. Burnie Burns and Matt Hullum, who are mostly nice and funny but squint at him every now and again when they think he’s not looking. There’s also Gus Sorola, who nods at him with understanding when he realises they’re both of Spanish descent.

Then there’s Joel Heyman.

He barrels in way later than everyone else, crashing through the door and, in quite a spectacular manner, into Ray. He fully expects to feel the cold hard ground hitting him in seconds, so is instead shocked when he feels an arm wrap around his waist and catch him, a free hand on his shoulder to balance him.

There’s writing scribbled on the hand, and before Ray can think any better of it he looks at it-

And sees his own name written there.

Ray’s heart is beating harder and faster than he thinks is humanly possible; he’s so aware of his every action, of every glance at Joel’s face; part of his brain is curious and excited, whilst the other recoils in fear; and he thinks his name might be tingling a little?

Michael’s looking at him and smirking like the asshole he is, slinging his arm round Gavin’s shoulders whilst winking at him.

Ray genuinely wants to sink into the ground.

Joel doesn’t seem to notice, and if he does, he is very steadfast in ignoring it. He lets go of Ray quickly though, and takes a step back. “I’m Joel,” he says, “Joel Heyman,” and reaches out his hand for Ray to shake.

Ray looks from Joel to Joel’s hand to his arm and says, reminiscent of his school years, “I’m,  u-uh, I’m… Uh, I’m Ray.” He has to pause, has to take a breath before saying, “Ray Narvaez Jr.” And he holds out his right arm, presumably to shake Joel’s hand, but he stops short and turns his arm out a little so that Joel’s name can be seen, inked onto his forearm.

He can feel the gaze heavy on him, hear the silence in the room. Joel’s hand drops, but his left one comes up, the one with Ray’s name written on it, and he delicately captures Ray’s wrist in his hand, so that both names can be seen side-by-side.

Joel still hasn’t said a word, eyes wide as they stare at the names. But eventually, _eventually_ , Joel meets Ray’s gaze.

His eyes are dark brown and it’s impossible to figure out what Joel’s thinking, impossible to dissect the emotions converging there. Joel’s hand feels hot on his wrist and he’s certain this isn’t how a soulmate meeting is supposed to go, all quiet and awkward.

Joel pulls away abruptly, shaking his head. “I can’t,” he says, stepping away.

"Joel, if you fucking dare-" Burnie starts from the counter, but he’s ignored.

"I can’t, I can’t do it, I won’t do it," Joel says, and as quickly as he arrived, he leaves.

He leaves, and Ray’s left in the middle of the room, staring at the empty area Joel had been occupying moments ago, arm still showing off his name, wrist still burning. He jerks his arm back, bites his lip to block any sounds he might try and make, clenches his fists to stop himself clawing his eyes out.

He doesn’t know why it hurts so much. It must be a soulmate thing, for a rejection to be like a pain so deep he can feel it in his bones, weighing him down, and dragging him back. He thinks there may be tears, but his skin’s too hot to notice, even when inside he feels freezing.

"Ray, man…" Michael murmurs, but he doesn’t continue,  _can’t_  continue, and just puts a hand on his shoulder.

It doesn’t help.

People start talking though, retreating back to their rooms like they’ve witnessed a murder, and in the kitchen Matt and Burnie are talking together, watching covertly. The humiliation burns him.

"That was rough, mate," Gavin says, and that doesn’t help either.

"He just…" Ray’s voice is hoarse, and it hurts to speak. "He just can’t? He can’t do it? Why- can’t- why can’t I just have- just for once, fuck, I-"

He doesn’t know what he might say if he keeps his mouth open, so he grinds his teeth down, sucks back the words he wants to speak.

"Ray," Burnie says, his voice standing out from the buzz around them. "We’ll talk to him."

Matt nods. “It’s the age thing,” he explains. When Ray tilts his head, he elaborates, “He was a day from being eighteen when you were born. We were at uni, it was meant to be his party, he freaked out about the age.”

"He’s still freaking out about it now, actually. We’ll try and sort it out." Burnie tries to offer a condoling smile, but that doesn’t help at all.

"C’mon, man," Michael says after a minute more of Ray staring into the ground. "Let’s go back to our office."

And Ray goes, because what else can he do?


	3. Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their first meeting goes pretty awfully; Ray thinks soulmates are shit, Joel thinks he's shit, and everyone else just thinks the fact that they're not together is shit. It gets less shit, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’d like to say that I’ve never played Far Cry 3 in my life and I’ve taken like a peek at the site so at lot of what I talk about below is probably wrong? Who knows. Also, in some podcast that Ray and Gav are both on, Gav says something like, “People always talk about how I have long eyelashes, but they should see Ray’s!” and yeah I’ve totally latched onto that sorry not sorry. Still not sure if Burnie and Matt are in character. Um. I hope you enjoy this??

Burnie’s prediction was right, is the first thing Joel thinks about once he’s dashed up the stairs and slammed his office door shut. Burnie was absolutely right, because guess fucking what? Joel  _doesn’t_  meet his soulmate until he’s forty.

He’s spent eighteen years of his life lost and confused, then he had to spend the next twenty-two drunk and angry, hiding the name on his hand and going out, getting with those who defied the idea of soulmates, whose soulmate had died, who just didn’t care. He made dumb jokes and pretended everything was okay and funny and if sometimes staring at his name for too long made him want to throw up, well, that’s okay.

He’s nearly died a few times because of it. Looking at it and getting into a car crash; worrying about it and getting into a fist fight with dudes bigger and stronger than him; ignoring it and getting too drunk, more than usual.

His name never goes white, but sometimes it hurts, like the pain his soulmate is feeling is so strong that it transfers itself through their connection and manifests in Joel. Those are some of the worst days, when he drinks to forget the name and numb the pain.

But he can’t ignore it any longer; no amount of drink will remove the image of the guy who’s  _surely_  his soulmate from his brain. Short and slim with dark hair and the shadow of stubble round his jaw; his skin was a little darker than Joel’s, and behind his glasses were dark eyes with long eyelashes, longer than anyone’s should ever be. It was…distracting.

Ray was distracting.

Joel only looked a few seconds and now the image of him is imprinted onto his brain and it’s awful, it should be so awful but it invites a flood of warmth into him that he hasn’t felt in years, that he shouldn’t feel, shouldn’t  _want_  to feel.

It’s… It’s eighteen years, okay?

Then his door is almost blasted open and Burnie hurtles into him, Matt right after. Composing themselves, they shut the door, adjust their collars, and wait for him to face them.

He doesn’t know if he can.

"Joel," Burnie starts. "C’mon, buddy."

He turns round.

Matt and Burnie are standing there, looking distinctly unimpressed with him, Burnie’s arms crossed and Matt’s in his pockets.

"Well, first things first: I think it is absolutely accurate to say that you completely fucked that up," Burnie says to him.

"Yup," he acknowledges.

"Secondly, Ray works at this company now, and I don’t want anyone in my company unable to work because they’re  _soulmate_  is too afraid to be with them,” Matt intones, looking accusingly at Joel.

"…Yup."

"Thirdly, that was a dick move, you’re gonna go apologise to him, then we’re kicking you both out the building until you get together," Burnie finishes.

Joel looks off to the side, scratching his neck. “I…don’t think I can do that, actually.”

"Joel fucking Heyman if you want to keep this job you’re gonna get over your fucking phobia of an age gap and talk to that guy."

Joel sighs, keeps looking away. “C’mon Burnie, this is probably for the best. I’m almost double his age. I’ll be dead in ten years. He doesn’t need a guy like me.”

"We’re all going to live until we’re 80, Joel, stop with the dramatics," Matt replies. "You have a soulmate, you’ve been waiting for him for decades, why are you holding back?"

Joel looks up at them, shaking his head minutely. They’re both dead serious, but they don’t get it, they don’t  _understand_  - Matt has Anna, Burnie has Ashley, there’s no huge age gap, they didn’t have eighteen years of slowly deciding that you wouldn’t have a soulmate to  _boom_ , having a fucking soulmate.

And then still, having to wait another twenty-two years to do anything about it. Joel shouldn’t do anything about it. That’s a bad, bad idea, Ray’s young and he seems sweet and apparently his videos are funny and what’s Joel? A fucking mess of a man, the same way he’s always been. Joel would only drag a bright soul like Ray down, and he doesn’t want that guilt.

"I’m not right for him," he decides on saying.

Matt scoffs.

"Well, uh, his name’s on you and your name’s on him and I think that’s a pretty clear sign that you two are right for each other," Burnie points out.

"I’m not right for anyone."

"Well you’re right for this kid, so go and apologise," Matt instructs.

"Soulmates, Joel," Burnie says, gesturing from his chest to him, like he’s trying to spread the love. " _Soulmates_.”

Soulmates, Joel thinks.  _Soulmates_.

_Being six and feeling confused. Ten and jealous. Fifteen and depressed. Eighteen and alcoholic._

_Forty and alone_.

Maybe… Maybe soulmates aren’t that bad. Joel’s been waiting his whole life, after all…

Just one meeting. He should at least apologise.

A guy as cute as Ray deserves to understand he doesn’t need a guy like Joel.

-

When he goes back downstairs, people eye him suspiciously. He nods slightly like, _yeah, I fucked up, I know_ , _I’m gonna fix it_ , except Michael’s getting a Red Bull and turns on him, hissing questions like, _what the fuck dude fuckin’ soulmates Joel he’s been waiting for this day his whole life he was so sure it wasn’t you but it was how the fuck could you fuck up so tremendously Joel what the hell is up with that?_

"I know," he says, evenly as he can. "I’m gonna go apologise, take him out for lunch, I don’t know."

"It’s eleven a.m."

"…Early lunch, a nice early lunch."

Michael grumbles and stalks back to the Achievement Hunter office, Joel on his heels.

"Get any for me, Michael?" Gavin asks when the door opens.

"Fuck no," replies Michael, who takes glance at Ray, whose legs are drawn to his chest on his chair, and says, "Ray, you’ve got a visitor."

Ray’s eyes shoot to the right to meet his own, and Joel focuses on them, ignoring the judgmental but slightly approving looks around him.

"Let’s talk," he says, but Ray tilts his head and he clarifies, "and eat."

And Ray glances round at his friends, who nod, and gets up, tucking his hoodie sleeves over his hands and following him when he turns round and leaves the office.

When they’re out in the open air, Joel says, “I’m sorry.”

And they don’t talk till they’re sat at Jersey Mike’s with food before them.

Ray’s voice is soft when he speaks, but there’s something so sad in it that it grates on Joel’s nerves: “That was a pretty dick move you pulled.”

"Yeah," he says, "yeah, I know." He pauses, takes a bite, draws a figure of eight. "I’m sorry. I’m really sorry."

There’s silence for a while, before Ray asks, “So, we’re not- uh- are we just not gonna…do this…soulmates thing?” It sounds like it physically hurts him, and Joel has to stop himself from reaching over and saying it’ll all be okay.

The desire is overwhelming.

Comes with the name, probably.

"It’s just… What you have to understand is that I didn’t get a name for  _years_ , and everybody thought I was a freak, and I thought I’d never  _have_  a soulmate, and then I get your name when I’m almost eighteen at university. Just. Think about that. I was in uni, and I finally got a soulmate, and it was a  _baby_. I mean…” Joel shrugs. It’s not easy to explain, how the image, how that moment’s stuck with him.

Ray is silent for a while, thinking about it. He bites his lip a little and his brows crease and it’s all annoyingly cute so Joel looks at his food to distract himself. It isn’t nearly as effective as Ray is.

"Yeah, okay," Ray finally concurs. "Yeah, that’s pretty weird to think about, and back them, yeah, it is pretty creepy. But now, we’re at the same stage of our lives, kind of. Like, yeah, you’re still older than me and you’ve done a ton of shit I haven’t, but we both work at the same place, live in the same city, it’s not like I don’t understand how to be an adult. I’ve been living on my own for four years, I think I can handle it."

Joel considers this, considers Ray’s earnest face with his rectangle glasses and his long eyelashes.

"Well…not me," he says after a moment. "I fuck up a lot. I’m old and I’m gonna die soon and I drink a lot and I’m kind of neurotic sometimes and I like to read about finances. I’m a boring, old man. What could you want from me?"

Ray’s absent-mindedly rubbing his right arm when he replies, “Well, old men have experience, right?” And there’s humour for a second, a brief curling of the lip into a smirk, eyes amused. It fades fast. “You work at Rooster Teeth, you couldn’t possibly be boring. I’ve heard you on the podcast, Joel. You’re a crazy motherfucker. And I can make sure you don’t die any time soon. And I can… I can handle the drinking.”

There’s something in Ray’s eyes that hints at something deeper, but Joel’s trying to keep it all as shallow as possible so he doesn’t get pulled in.

But he…kind of wants to.

Ray’s eyes have fallen to his own name on Joel’s wrist. He tugs his arm back when he notices, and Ray pulls back like he’s been snapped out of a trance.

"Let’s go back," Joel says, and pays, and they leave.

He thinks that’s the end of it; for today, at least. Ray looks disappointed, dejected, but Joel doesn’t know what to say to convince him that it’s better if they’re not together, especially when he’s having difficulty trying to convince himself.

Geoff conveniently blocks him the minute he tries to go through the corridor to the stairs.

"Hey, Joel, we were thinking, uh, maybe you and Ray could do a quick video to introduce Ray to the fans?" he says, and his smile is friendly but his eyes are predatory and Joel knows better than that.

"Hey, Geoff, I’m really busy, I’ve got paperwork and people to call and things to-"

"Great! I’ve already loaded up your Far Cry 3 video; I figured you two could do some commentary? Thanks buddy, I’m gonna go have some lunch."

And he’s brushed aside.

Joel sighs, heavily, as is custom at his age, and trails back to the AH office.

Michael’s in there, editing what looks like a Rage Quit with extreme determination, and Gavin stands as Joel enters, saying, “I might get some lunch with Geoff actually.” Jack and Michael remain.

"So, Far Cry 3, huh?" Ray asks, and Joel grabs Gavin’s empty chair and maneuvers it to Ray’s desk, where his video is loaded up.

"It’s a fun game," Joel supplies, beginning to set up the audio equipment. "You know how this stuff all works, right?"

"Uh, kind of. I know how my stuff works."

And, completely ignoring all soulmate discussion, Joel quickly outlines how to set up audio and capture for ten minutes before settling in with the mics and clicking play.

It’s a short video, built for maximum hilarity, and Joel knows exactly what to say to exaggerate this. He introduces Ray quickly, then gets right on with it.

"…so I was thinking there might be some other things in Far Cry 3 you could, like, get this way, like…animals," he says, as the boat drives on shore and knocks out the dogs there, "and…people."

There’s quiet for a moment, until: “Jesus, is this a montage?!” And Ray can’t stop laughing.

Joel’s mouth quirks up at the corners, eyes off the screen and on Ray’s face, smiling widely, eyes alight with humour.  The things Ray says to keep the video going and when he’s genuinely surprised, the emotions playing blatantly on his face, and Joel doesn’t know he’s smiling warmly at Ray until he finishes with, “…other boats,” and Ray faces him, grinning.

Ray looks a little caught off-guard, but his joy comes back full-force as he says, “Good video, buddy.”

"Thanks, Ray."

"That montage really, uh, took me by surprise."

"I was just…grasped by the tenacious desire to kill anything and everything with that boat when I killed the fish, you know?" he drawls lazily, trying to hide how much he enjoys this conversation.

"I, uh, personally liked it when you went up the beach and just…" Ray motions with his hand, "…came down."

"It’s nice to sit back and relax as well, you know. It’s not all blood thirst and murder."

"No?"

"No, you’re on an island. There are trees and fruit falling from trees and making shelters out of trees and climbing to the top of trees to spy on your enemies…"

"Which is everyone, naturally."

"Naturally," Joel replies, the corner of his lips turning up.

They sit and stare at each other for a while - he thinks he can hear Jack sighing over ‘young love’, and Michael snickering in the background, but whatever, he’s already established Ray has very nice eyes and annoyingly lovely eyelashes and as his soulmate Joel gets the right to look at those whenever he wants.

"Let’s have dinner together," he decides.

Ray looks overjoyed. “Yeah?”

"Yeah. I’ll drive you home, we can play games, we’ll get a take-out… Why not, right?"

"So romantic," Ray laughs.

"Well, you’ll find out soon."

-

Ray says bye to Joel and then sits back in his chair, staring at the screen but not registering what was there. He basks in the glow of the recent memory: watching the dumb video Joel made and not being able to contain his laughter as it played, with the stupid montage and the way Joel said the things he said, the way Ray turned to him at the end to offer his congratulations on a video well done and instead saw Joel watching him, smiling a little like he’d forgotten every issue he’d had with the soulmates thing.

And asked him to dinner. Not a fancy one, but going to Joel’s house sounded way more appetising than a stuffy restaurant.

It takes a moment to realise Michael’s laughing at him in the background.

"Wow," he’s saying, "you managed to seduce the non-believer so quickly!"

"Well, you know me," he replies, grinning. "I’m practically irresistible."

They laugh about it for a while, Jack chuckling in the background, till Michael says, all serious, “Good job, Ray. You feelin’ better?”

"Yeah," he nods. "Yeah, a lot better. I didn’t…quite expect that."

"No one expects anything of Joel’s videos," Michael agrees. "They’re unpredictable, that’s why they’re so hilarious."

"Unpredictable," Ray repeats, the faintest smile on his face. "Yeah, that sounds about right."

If Michael scoffs and rolls his eyes before turning back to his computer, well, Ray doesn’t see, doesn’t care.

It’s kind of nice, for there to potentially be the strongest relationship he’s ever had before him: for a few hours there he thought he’d never have Joel, never get his soulmate, and that he’d live in misery forever. But over the course of fifteen minutes or so, them being together has become a very, very likely outcome, and yeah… It’s kind of nice.

Ray might be wholly loved, completely and utterly, for once in his life, by someone he’ll care for just as much. It warms his heart, although he pretends it doesn’t.

-

Ray has to wait for Joel to finish up a little past five. He thinks Joel wants to stay and work for longer, but then again, he probably wants to make up for the way he acted during their first meeting. Joel’s a busy guy, Ray’s told - it’s hard to pin him down to anything.

Despite that, Joel finally leaves his office and comes by AH, looking nervous but loose in a way Joel always seems to be. He inclines his head and Ray hops out of his seat, all his tech stuff already switched off and unplugged. The drive to Joel’s place is quiet, except for the financial radio playing in the background. Joel listens intently, so Ray doesn’t speak, just examines Joel’s furrowed brows and the lines they embed into his skin; the laugh lines branching out from the corners of his eyes; his high cheekbones, sharp jaw, the youth that seems to shine despite the evidence against it. Looking at him, Ray could’ve sworn Joel looks at least ten years younger than he is. People would never question them on their age difference, would never glance scornfully in their direction; though Ray looks his age, Joel doesn’t look much older, especially from a distance.

Thinking on it, yeah, Ray can see how the age gap could be a problem. The whole ‘soulmates’ concept doesn’t solve all problems: there’s a minority who disregard all that soulmates are, says names don’t dictate true love; there are still people who oppose soulmates who fit several categories, such as having a large age gap, or being same sex, which, uh, Ray and Joel happen to both fit; and then there’s what Joel went through growing up. Ray can’t imagine it being much different from what he went through as a kid, with all the bullying, although the reasons for are the opposite. Not having a soulmate, Ray thinks, would be hell, but at least you weren’t judged for what your soulmate was.

Still…there was a comfort in having a name; countless nights thinking,  _he’ll come along one day, and he’ll love me forever and we’ll always be happy_ , and taking such joy in that, wrapping himself in the anticipation of meeting his soulmate, creating a layer between him and the awful outside. Joel didn’t have that; he had empty space and alcohol and years of thinking he just didn’t have a soulmate, then years of thinking his soulmate was too young for him, and now…this…?

Yes. Ray understands Joel’s issue, but he also understands that he, himself, is not afraid of it. How could Ray be afraid of Joel being older than him, when the man is so vivid and exciting, strange and intriguing and, Ray will be honest, more than a little worrying…

It’s not like Ray hasn’t watched all the podcasts. He knows what Joel’s like, he’s heard the stories of his youth, knows how much he relies on various substances to get him through the day. They make for great stories and a very interesting man, but…it makes Ray kind of sad. Very sad, actually. He doesn’t want his soulmate hurting so much he needs to take something to make it go away. Ray wants to be able to do that himself.

He just needs to convince Joel that that’s okay.

—

Joel lives in a flat, one floor, but pretty large. The living room is spacious and shares an open floor with the kitchen/dining room. It’s all wood, a little scuffed in some places and shiny in others - “easier to clean up stains,” Joel explains when Ray points it out. There’s a big TV with a few consoles and two sofas dotted round it. The walls are cream, and there are some photographs along the mantelpiece and on end tables. The coffee table is a mess; newspapers are piled on top of it, along with some random notebooks and remotes. The room isn’t exactly clean nor dirty; it has a sense of emptiness, like it isn’t filled up the way it should be by a human. Despite the abundant evidence of Joel’s existence in it - such as the papers and hoodies draped over the sofa and the bottles in the bin - the air feels cold and unused.

The kitchen is just as stark, from what Ray can see by the sofa. Joel goes over and grabs a beer immediately from the fridge, which looks pretty empty, and then spins on his heel and asks, “You want anything?”

"Uh, like…" Ray squints at the fridge and the bareness of it, and replies, "…just water is fine."

And Joel grabs a glass and fills it up and puts some ice in and joins him by the sofa. Ray’s decided to make this less awkward than it needs to be and has already switched the TV on. It’s on some finance channel, and it’s kind of cute, actually.

Joel catches his smile, but doesn’t say anything.

There’s an awkward silence, nothing but interrupted noise as Ray mindlessly channel-flicks, pausing briefly on soaps and science.

Joel sits on the edge of the sofa, his hands clenched tight, and  _crap_ , what if he’s reconsidering? They can’t even start a conversation now apparently, how the holy hell would they be together forever, right? That’s what Joel was thinking, right? He probably just wants to kick back with a beer and the FTSE 100, and here Ray is, checking out fucking soap operas like a kid.

"So," Joel begins, a little hesitantly, "wanna play some Far Cry 3?"

Ray doesn’t drop the remote, but it’s a near thing - he breaks out into a grin, his previous chain of thought derailed completely. “Sure,” he replies, “maybe you can show me how to kill those fish again.”

"Yeah, and then you could do it yourself like a big boy."

"I certainly am a big boy," and he says it with the over-confidence he’s learned from Michael, that’s been hidden away with his innate snark over the years, but he can feel the blood in his cheeks and prays Joel doesn’t see it.

Christ, he’s like a pre-teen girl with a huge, gooey crush. He totally didn’t sign up for this. Gross.

When Ray looks up, though, he realises that Joel’s sliding the disc for Far Cry 3 into his Xbox, and for a second he thinks he’s good until he decides to appreciate the view, and the blush comes back full force.

_God damn_.

And then Joel turns round with a controller in hand and, catching the redness in Ray’s cheeks, smirks like an asshole.

Ray catches the controller when it’s thrown to him, though, determinedly not looking at Joel.

"How about you play, I watch?"

Ray forcefully doesn’t think about the  _many_  directions he could take in response to those words, and instead glances to the side before setting his eyes on the screen, waiting as the game loads up.

Joel lets Ray play around on his save file, since he’s completed it, and Ray just frolics around the island, killing some people and animals and doing all the tree stuff. He gets on a jet ski and kills the fish and the animals and the people, the way Joel showed him to, and Joel laughs when he first does it, loudly, and keeps laughing as he continues.

He’s laughing too - and  _definitely_ not giggling like a schoolgirl, his voice did not jump a whole octave, excuse you - at one point so much that he has to pause the game for a minute because he can’t see. Every now and then Joel will plant his hand over Ray’s eyes or somewhere on his face to distract him, or poke his waist to make him practically seize up, grabbing the controller off him and making him leap off a mountain.

"That’s a bit rude," he comments as Joel nudges Ray to the side and wrestles the controller from his grip, manipulating the character into standing from his hiding spot and showing himself to the animal Ray was trying to hunt.

Joel passes the controller back just as the animal brutally slaughters Ray.

"Thanks a lot, asshole," Ray mutters. "I’d almost fucking got him, as well."

"Well, you know," Joel says, gesturing with his hands as if he’s being logical. "You had an odd number of deaths."

"An odd number of deaths," Ray repeats slowly, returning to his hiding spot to wait for the animal to show up again.

"Yeah. And you hadn’t been killed by an animal yet."

"I fuckin’ hate you."

Ray pretends he doesn’t see it, but Joel grins at that, widely, before taking a swig of his drink as he sits back.

Joel’s had about a beer and a half for the few hours they’ve been playing; surprisingly, Ray hasn’t seen much of a change in how he acts, except for maybe being a little more comfortable than usual (never completely comfortable, though; that’s Joel’s ‘thing’). Ray ponders it for a while as he hunts, remembering how people could down a few beers and go crazy when he worked at the bar. He remembers them getting too close to each other, for the wrong reasons, not stopping when they should. He remembers the loud drunks, and the angry ones, and the ones his dad was like. He remembers the way some drunks tried to come on to him. He never told his dad.

Joel’s not like that, though. A few drinks make no difference…like he’s so used to alcohol he needs a lot to get drunk.

It’s sad. It’s so  _sad_ , and it makes Ray’s heart hurt in a way he’s never felt before, he can feel the longing to help Joel aching in his finger tips and he doesn’t realise he’s stopped playing until Joel prods his side and says, “Ray?”

"Wha- yeah?" He startles and blinks, and, yep, his character’s getting killed again, but the controller’s still in his hands.

"Are you…alright?" Joel’s eyes crinkle and his brows furrow and he looks genuinely concerned and it’s nice to feel looked after.

"Yeah," he says after a moment, glancing from the ‘ _you died_ ' screen back to Joel's earnest face. “Just, uh, thinking.”

Joel’s concern visibly morphs into worry. “About what?” he asks, quickly.

"Nothing, not like that, I mean-" Ray can’t get the words out - doesn’t want Joel to think Ray’s second guessing their potential relationship, doesn’t want to call Joel an alcoholic. He does, though, anyway. "You just, uh, you drink a lot, I noticed."

Joel sighs heavily. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah…that’s a thing.” Joel glances lazily at Ray. “Is that a thing for you?”

"I, uh, I don’t drink," Ray says. Joel’s eyebrows rise dramatically. "I don’t like the taste, like,  _at all_ , and y’know, I worked at a bar with my dad for a while, so seeing people getting drunk off their asses kind of…put me off it. It messed my dad up for a while as well, so, uh…”

Joel nods slowly in understanding. “That’s cool,” he says. “I mean, personally, I probably couldn’t function  _without_  alcohol but it’s that whole-” Joel waves his hand in circles “-opposites attract, right?”

Ray smiles softly, relieved at Joel’s reaction. “Right,” he says, and continues playing.

He’s never told someone so quickly before. He’s not partial to being partial to people, and it takes a while to tell someone something personal.  _A soulmate thing_ , he tells himself, and he doesn’t know if he’s okay with that or not.

In fact, he’s far more comfortable with Joel that he expected to be, considering they met less than ten hours ago. Then again, Michael had only met Gavin for two days before he called Ray up and told him he was gonna marry the guy. So this is normal. Probably.

It’s more than mental, though, because when this started there were a good few inches between them, Ray sitting on the edge of the sofa whilst Joel sat back with his ankle on his knee.

It was kind of hot. Whatever.

Now, though, both Ray and Joel have sunk back against the sofa; Joel’s arm is tossed casually round the back, not round Ray’s shoulders but close enough so that if Ray were to tip his head back he’d meet Joel’s arm. It’s probably nice there. The gap between them has mysteriously disappeared, sitting hip to hip and knee to knee. Or at least, they were, except Ray actually crossed his legs on the sofa so that his knee is actually kind of in the middle of Joel’s thigh. Just sitting there. All domestic. It’s nice.

Ray’s shoulder leaning against Joel’s side, as well, and a few more inches and they’d be kind of cuddling. Cuddles are nice, though. They should try that some time.

Ray settles in a little more and keeps playing.

Only a few minutes later does perhaps the most monumental moment of Ray’s life to date happen: the phone rings.

Well, it sets into motion the monumental moment.

Ray, reassured by Joel’s solid form by his, isn’t paying much attention to him otherwise; he’s locked into a five on one fight, and he’s determined to get out of it with barely a scratch. That’s why the call feels so sudden - his fingers move automatically, pausing the game as his head snaps towards the source of the sound. Which is behind him, somewhere, to his left.

And who else is there but Joel? Joel, who must have been watching him this time, because his face is angled down towards Ray and that’s why when Ray’s head swings back, his lips catch on Joel’s. Literally - he has the momentum to go right by Joel, but he feels rough lips against his and stops short, presses closer without fully realising his own intent. Joel’s reacting the same way, though, ignoring the phone and leaning in, increasing the pressure and shifting slightly-

And then Joel’s hand cups Ray’s cheek, and Joel pulls back.

"I-"

"Um, so-"

"You know, phone-"

"Right, right, I’ll just-"

But Joel’s already up and grabbing the phone, answering the call with, “Hello, Joel Heyman here,” fast and nervous and Ray can tell and it makes his cheeks red with embarrassment and a little humiliation.

He scowls and turns back to the game, viciously slaughtering all in sight. It’s quite rejuvenating, actually. He should do that more often.

It doesn’t sound like a call from Rooster Teeth; instead, it must be one of the commercials Joel’s working on, because he suddenly sounds tense and short and sharp. The authoritative tone of his voice does things to Ray he’ll strongly deny if ever questioned upon them. He ignores it, tries to, focuses more on the game.

But then there’s silence and a heavy sigh and Ray pauses and sets down the controller immediately.

"Look, Ray, this has been nice, but…" Another sigh, and Joel rubs at his eyes. "It turns out some asshole fucked something up so I’m gonna have to go in and…fuckin’ fix this mess." Ray nods slowly, not meeting Joel’s eyes as he quits the game without saving and stands. "I’m sorry, Ray. Another day, when I don’t have work to do…" A dry laugh. "Not that that’ll ever happen."

Joel’s rambling is grating on Ray’s nerves - this sudden change in atmosphere has led to a sudden, upsetting change in mood.

"I’ll give you a lift home?" Joel offers.

Ray’s tempted to say no, but he agrees.

The ride home is silent, the financial radio turned up louder than before to try and block it out. Ray’s fingers are curled tight into his shorts and he stares steadfastly forwards, blushing alternately in affection and humiliation as he remembers the short-lived kiss.

_God damn_ ,  _Ray_.

Joel parks and stalls, makes an aborted movement, towards his arm, perhaps, or his hand, but shakes his head and withdraws his hand. “I’m sorry,” he says, and the sincerity crushes Ray. “Another day.”

Ray hightails it out of there and into his own crappy flat. He does  _not_ , under  _any_ circumstances, sit against the door and mope. Or cry. Or anything. He’s a grown-ass man, he can handle a little…bad timing. Misfortune. Nothing he hasn’t encountered before.

_Soulmates_ , he thinks.  _Soulmates suck._

-

Another day turns out to be the next day. The loneliness burned Ray through the night, particularly on his arm, and it frustrated him because  _soulmates_ , it couldn’t go away because of god damn  _soulmates_.

It was fuckin’ bullshit.

So Ray storms into work, on this next day that turns out to be another day. His arm hurts, because soulmates are  _bullshit_ , and every two seconds he’s hit with a pang of anguish, or anger, or downright embarrassment and his cheeks flush and his eyes get watery and  _what the fuck_ , man.

"What the fuck, man?" Michael says as Ray barges past him and into his seat.

He stares at his screen as he boots his gear up, ignoring Michael’s concerned questions, which mutilate into Gavin’s worried squawks, until the whole office is asking.

Fucking  _soulmates._ If Joel didn’t want him, why did he have to string him along, huh?

"Bullshit," Ray mutters, and everyone else clings to that word until he clarifies, loudly, "Fucking  _soulmates_. Bullshit.”

Someone laughs nervously and Ray’s tempted to write it off as Geoff being weird, until Michael leans over to tap his shoulder and says, “ _Dude,”_  and Ray turns in his seat to see Joel.

Well. He isn’t quite expecting that. Joel, in a huge hoodie and a pair of jeans, with his dark hair a mess and his brown eyes panicked.

He’s holding roses.

_Roses_. Perhaps they are soulmates after all.

"I, uh, certainly hope you don’t think that anymore," Joel murmurs, standing awkwardly in the room whilst Gavin gives ‘encouraging’ thumbs-up signs from the back. "You know, last night was a mistake" - and at this point eyebrows start raising and Michael winks and mouths  _good job_  like an asshole - “but the guys fucked up so badly, I couldn’t not go in.” Sighs of disappointment echo round the room. God, Ray didn’t know he’s be working with such gossipmongers.

"And…?" Ray says, if only to hurry along the stilted, one-sided conversation.

"And so I brought, uh, roses…uh, because Michael said to me, you know, that you two used to play Minecraft a lot, and, uh, you liked roses a lot, so I thought…roses for Ray. To, you know. To apologise," Joel explains, pausing often and sighing a little afterwards. "If you’ll take it. And we can, you know, have a proper dinner, at, like, a fancy restaurant or, you know, whatever-"

Ray is positively  _not_  blushing. “That sounds fun,” he cuts in. “Better be a fancy ass restaurant, though.”

Joel looks relieved. “I do know some great restaurants.” He looks down at the flowers. “So, uh-“

Ray stops him short by stepping up and onto his tiptoes (yeah, he’s short, Joel’s tall, he  _knows_ ) to press a kiss onto the man’s cheek, taking the flowers from him as he does so.

"So, uh, thank you," Ray says. "I’ll see you later."

Joel’s blushing too. At least Ray isn’t the only one. “Yeah, yeah, you will.”

When the door shuts, Ray collapses back in his seat. “Fuck,” he whispers.

"What bullshit," Geoff teases, not unkindly. "Who gets you roses? Fuckin’ soulmates."

"Roses for Ray," Michael snickers. "Can we make that a thing?"

Ray ignores the flush of his cheeks to smirk and say, “Yeah, I want that on a shirt.”

The joy bubbles quietly inside of him though, and he remains in a wonderful mood for the rest of the day.

-

This time, Ray gets a ride home from Michael so he has time for a shower and quick change before seeing Joel. They texted throughout the day, and Joel made it clear that this time it was a proper ‘date’ date, which apparently included being picked up at 7pm to go to some sweet restaurant.

'Sweet' apparently meaning 'uhh smart but not too smart, like kinda casual u know but good' in Joel's words. Ray picks some dark jeans and a white shirt because that's literally the nicest clothing combination he owns and he didn't even pack it, his mum did in case he ever got invited 'somewhere nice'. She'd said it in a slightly doubtful tone, but look at how far he's come. He's actually going somewhere nice. He should probably call her to tell her so. In fact, he should probably tell her he's found his _soulmate_ , that’s a pretty important revelation, considering he spent the first twenty-two years of his life wondering where the hell this guy was.

And he’s here. In his state, city, work. His door. Knocking.

Ray leaps up from his bed immediately, quickly smoothing his shirt down and patting at his hair before answering the door. Joel’s in black trousers and a dark blue shirt, untucked, and it looks good on him, as most smart outfits do. There are no roses this time, but that’s cool, because the ones he got are sat in a little vase on his desk back in the office, considering that’s where he spends most of his time.

"You ready?" Joel asks, although it’s clear that Ray is.

"Sure," he says, before navigating them back down the hall and a flight of stairs to get to the car park. "Are you?"

"Well," Joel says in a playful tone, "you know, I’m never ready for anything."

"No? Good thing I don’t get pissed about that shit, then."

"When you’re surrounded by it twenty-four seven I think you’ll change your mind.

Once Joel’s unlocked his car, they get in and Ray merely says, “I don’t think that’ll happen.”

"You don’t?"

"Not at all."

Ray doesn’t miss the small, but bright smile that materialises on Joel’s face. Maybe he doesn’t hear things like that very often. Maybe Ray will tell him things like that more often.

-

Dinner’s nice,  _so_  nice, actually. Better than Ray had expected: he’d thought it might be the typical ‘couple goes to a stuffy restaurant and spend the entire time wishing they were somewhere more casual’, but Joel knows his way round these kinds of situations, and it’s a cool place, spacious and dimly-lit and there’s even a sweet water pond feature along one wall.

It’s pretty damn awesome.

They’re at the back, in a corner, and though Ray  _could’ve_  sat opposite Joel, he chooses to slide into the booth so that they’re at right angles to one another. It’s warmer, cosier, more personal, and for a date like this - essentially, a ‘get to know your soulmate!’ one - that’s pretty necessary. Ray doesn’t mind - he can play footsie with Joel under the table, although eventually he forgets and their legs end up a tangled mess beneath. Which is cool, until one of them tries getting out and ends up flushing red. They’re prone to that.

They talk to each other and make dumb jokes and order expensive food and Ray flicks through the alcohol menu, picking weird cocktails and strong whiskies for Joel to try while he looks on, laughing as Joel get steadily drunker. Not too drunk though. No matter what Ray plies onto him, Joel still doesn’t get that drunk, and after a while, instead of being funny, it’s just sad. Ray tries to ignore it, though.

As they eat, they talk. Not just about work or games, like before, but their lives before Rooster Teeth, about living in Texas, about their names. Ray tells Joel everything about his life, or near enough: living in New York and being poor and Hispanic, about constantly being teased for it; being good at fucking nothing but gaming, spending his days comforted in virtual worlds; growing up with a male name in a school that seemed  _exclusively_  straight, and the looks that came with it, the names, the sneers, the punches.

Tells him about the comfort found in Drunk Gamers - how dumb the whole thing was, how endlessly, mindlessly entertaining it was, how ridiculously excited he was for Red Vs Blue, and continues to be. Tells him that his favourite character was Caboose, and smiles. Tells him he knew who Joel was due to the podcasts, and looked him up and wondered and thought about it - but decided it must be impossible, that there was too big an age gap, that they were too far apart.  After, he talks about his family. About  _why_  he felt the need to escape, and working in that bar with his dad and seeing him getting worse every day, and wiping tables and serving drinks whilst swearing to himself he would never go down that path, not when it made kind, loveable men like his father so…different. Tells Joel that eventually it stopped, and his dad got better, and Ray moved out and started making videos and met Michael and ended up here.

Joel’s smiling a little at the end of Ray’s monologue; then again, he’s been smiling almost entirely through it, save for when Ray mentioned bullies or the rough patch at the end. He’s got his pretentiously-named cocktail swaying a little in the air, and looking at Ray with amusement, and with fondness.

If Ray’s toes curl in his shoes, well then, you know, maybe he’s just a little cold. In Texas. In April.

"You know," Joel says in that languid way of his, "it’s funny that you’re so, like, dead set against drink when it’s like, the only thing getting me through the day."

"Really," Ray replies, sipping at his own Coke to mask the immediate worry that infiltrates his mind at those words. A soulmate thing. Clearly.

"I mean, uh, it’s obviously not like that now, but still, a day doesn’t go by without a couple of drinks here and there, right?" Joel explains, waving his free hand a little - something he’s prone to, it seems - and gazing at him as he speaks.

"No, right, right," Ray says. "What was it like…before?"

Joel doesn’t exactly stiffen; but his eyes squint a tad and the curve of his mouth drops a little and he pulls back, minisculy, but it happens all the same.

“ _Well_ ,” he says, and proceeds to tell Ray about his life. Ray can’t help but feel Joel’s definitely holding out a little on him, but on the other hand, hearing this version is pain enough, maybe going deeper would be a little much. Joel talks about pythons and being scared of them and being too weird at school, and then not having a name and being even  _weirder_ , and treated like some outcast, and slowly accepting that he didn’t get a soulmate. When he was young he didn’t care, but as he began to grow he became more concerned, and maybe a little scared, and then the mocking kicked in and it all became numb. Joel doesn’t elaborate further on it except to say that was when he started drinking, and though he doesn’t state an exact age Ray can’t help but feel it was young, too young to drink for sorrow.

Joel talks about university next, and how he’d barely been there two weeks and was already kicking it with Matt and friendly with Burnie. He sighs, and tells Ray about the awful ‘birthday party’ (he’d sighed even harder and rolled his eyes), and how he got his name, and how he was happy for a millisecond before realising he was destined to fall in love with what, at that time, had been a baby. Joel says he had a lot of alcohol and a long night, and so Ray can see where it went. There’s an awkward pause, then Joel says, “It’s funny, or awkward, or kind of sad, I guess, but Burnie, at the time, had said something like, ‘You’ll be alone until you’re forty,’, and now here you are and here I am and, well… He was right. Because I am forty, and I’m not really alone now, am I?”

Ray frowns in sympathy. He’s not good at comforting friends - his old friends weren’t the type to get emotional. Joel seems the same, actually, except that Ray  _wants_  to comfort him. He goes for the next best thing: humour. “At least that’s forty years of experience, right?” he says, and grins.

"Yeah, well, if you wanna look on the bright side."

"I try," and he grins, big and dumb and so does Joel, and it’s nice. It’s really nice.

With mild prompting, Joel continues, this time more action-packed and exciting - he and Burnie and Matt made some movie, and then he and Matt went to LA, and there’s a whole bundle of ridiculous stories from there, and even more from Joel’s various trips to Las Vegas (he’s that guy who had his shit together at the table), and still more from when Red Vs Blue started up and Joel stayed at Texas and spent more time with the founding fathers of RT. Those are better days, Ray can tell from the way Joel’s eyes light up and the way he grins and the way he laughs, wholeheartedly in remembrance, and Ray laughs along because Joel’s good at stories, and Joel’s good at being funny, so if by the time Joel finishes his saga - ending on an interesting little story including Geoff and Burnie, whiskey, and multiple phone calls - Ray’s hunched over the table and wiping away a few tears, it’s all good.

"That’s fuckin’ funny," Ray wheezes out, ignoring that his voice has suddenly jumped an octave, and tries to sit up straight. Joel’s watching with a wide smile, his eyes crinkling and soft, and Ray’s not an idiot, even he can see that it’s one of those love-struck gazes, but he is at least eighty-six per cent sure he’s doing the same thing back, so yeah: soulmates. They’re the real deal.

It’s pretty damn amazing.

"You say that now," Joel replies, "but at the time we were missing an Xbox and Geoff had already had two whiskies and Burnie started panicking after five seconds. We made a pact to never speak of it again."

"And you broke it just to tell me?" Ray flattens his palms over his heart. "I’m touched."

"You must be something special."

"I’d hope you’d think so, I’m your fucking soulmate."

Joel grins. “That just means you’re somehow equipped to take care of a drunken old man like me. Sound good?”

"I don’t see any problem," Ray says, choosing not to point out that that makes him pretty special indeed. "And you’re not even that old."

Joel levels him with a look of disbelief. “I’m probably as old as your parents.”

Ray thinks about it for a second and- huh. Close enough. “They still have like, five years on you.”

"Have fun explaining that to them."

"Oh, I will."

They sit in that corner for ages, it feels like, legs curled around each other’s and laughing at the dumbest things. They lean in close to one another, so much so Ray has to back away every now and then as Joel gestures. Ray’s so close he can see every line on Joel’s face, and the height of his cheekbones, and the shadows in Joel’s eyes, and he can see the age there, but he can also see humour and loyalty and kindness, and it’s dumb but it  _matters_ , and if he smiles like an idiot all night because of it, well, that’s his own decision. As the night goes on, they don’t notice the coming and going of other customers; don’t see the waitress taking away their dishes and cutlery; don’t realise that time itself is, in fact, passing, until Joel glances down at his watch and exclaims that it’s actually past eleven.

They finally call for the bill (much to the relief of their waitress, though she smiles sweetly when Joel has to untangle his fingers from Ray’s to sign his name) and go through the whole cliché of Joel dropping Ray off and walking him to his door and yeah, giving him a kiss, or two, or maybe, you know, a whole lot, before leaving.

Ray’s not a schoolgirl, he doesn’t go to bed with a sigh on his lips, and he doesn’t replay the whole night in his head as he tries to go to sleep… Well, no, he does, especially certain bits of it, but that’s because it was so  _nice_ , all of it, and sitting there with Joel, talking and laughing about the dumbest things, it was so enjoyable and fun and yeah, Ray guesses this is what falling in love is like. Falling in love with his _soulmate_.

Before Ray let’s himself sleep, though, he calls up Michael and tells him, “I’m gonna marry that guy.”

**Author's Note:**

> find me at mlp-michaeljones or tyrellis on tumblr :)


End file.
